


black butterflies & déjà vu;

by vityaxwolf



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 16:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityaxwolf/pseuds/vityaxwolf
Summary: Wolfram can hear the rush of blood in his ears. Nostalgia, aren't you a quaint little thing?





	black butterflies & déjà vu;

Wolfram contemplates on crossing the highway, effectively ruining his suede shoes and being drenched by the rain _that was not in the weather forecast this morning_. He snorted. He would get an earful from Gwendal for not bringing an umbrella, at the very least. The youngest child will always remain a child in the eyes of his older brothers even if he’s no longer one. He closes his eyes and sighs. The weight of the day has now set in and he could not wait to reach home for a hot bath and a warm meal.

 

Home, _huh?_

 

The rain lets up a little and Wolfram considers getting the worst over and done with. The vehicles slow to a halt and in the haze of rain and red and orange lights, the intersection is clear enough for people to cross. Wolfram places his leather sling bag over his head in a feeble attempt to shield himself from being thoroughly drenched, and prays that he wouldn’t catch a cold as he walks with the throng of people caught up in their own thoughts.

 

As he looked up, a man, no, a _boy_ treading the opposite direction adjusts his dark umbrella. Their eyes meet, and between one heartbeat and another, Wolfram was crushed with the heavy weight of this overwhelming sense of familiarity and longing. It was irrational, wanting to grab the boy, this _stranger,_ and shake the living daylights out of him. The boy’s black eyes looked up at him as if trying to solve a puzzle, knowing, but not really seeing. They pass each other in a blur of emotions that came in bursts and stops, wistful and nostalgic all the same. Wolfram feels his chest constricting.

 

 

The traffic light turns green. Time rushes forward.


End file.
